"It's a happy life, but someone is missing. It's a happy life and someone is missing. It's a happy life -- "

(Elizabeth McCracken, An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination)

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Feeling fragile today.

I pretty much just copied and pasted the below from a post I wrote on SAL, because it pretty much summed up how I'm feeling today.

I wouldn't go so far as to say I'm freaking out, but the symptoms seem to be declining. My breasts are not as tender or achey as they were, though still full and if I poke and prod them or sleep on them or something, they hurt. My nausea is nowhere near as bad as last week. It's still there, but it doesn't seem constant. Insomnia made a return, and I'm getting much more thirsty than before, and my skin still turns to an oil slick within four hours of washing it, and all that jazz . . . but there are now hours that pass where I don't feel pregnant at all.

I know I should be grateful for those reprieves, and I know it's not uncommon for symptoms to start declining between 8 and 10 weeks, as hormone levels are naturally leveling out, and blah blah blah . . . but we're so close to when we learned the bad news about Chickadee. All day long I've expected spotting to start, and I feel freaked out that symptoms are declining, since they were declining rapidly by this point with Chickadee as my body figured out it wasn't viable.It's so difficult to remain positive and trust that the heartbeat we saw was in fact a good heartbeat (the interwebs and the u/s tech said so, but most people seemed to be in the 120's . . .) and that this little chicken is still going strong. I'd feel better if I were violently vomiting again, honestly. And my next appointment is 2 weeks from Friday. I wanted to be as far as possible to improve our odds of hearing a h/b on doppler, but now I'm getting worried and scared. My friend offered me use of her doppler when it comes in, but it isn't here yet and I'm afraid to try and not hear a h/b.

It's just stressful. And I'm sort of tired of it, you know? I just want to know things are ok, and no one can tell me that or promise me that even if I could have another u/s in an hour that things would be ok in two weeks, you know?

I wish I could say something to ease your fears. It's so difficult when everything is out of your control and you don't know what's going on inside your body. I guess it's one of those things you can only take one moment at a time. I'm thinking of you.

"Now Rachel's weeping for the children she thought she could not bear, and she bears a sorrow that she cannot hide. And she wishes she was with them; she looks and they're not there. It seems that love comes for just a moment and it passes on by.And her sky is just a bandit swinging at the end of a hangman's noose, because he stole the moon and must be made to pay for it. And her friends say, 'My, that's tragic.' And she says, 'Especially for the moon.'And this is the world, as best as I can remember it."